Monster: The Ed Gein Story (Netflix)

By: Dave Hughes

Ryan Murphy has built a yearly tradition of dramatizing America’s most infamous crimes and criminals through his ongoing anthology series Monster.  From Jeffrey Dahmer to the Menendez Brothers, his Monster anthology reframes real-life horror through a Hollywood lens. His latest entry turns to Ed Gein, one of America’s most disturbed killers, whose crimes went beyond murder and into the macabre, blurring the line between man and monster. While the subject matter is undeniably grim, Murphy aims to balance terror with empathy, portraying Gein as both a monster and a cautionary product of a deeply disturbed childhood. 

Gein’s story is rooted in tragedy, shaped largely by his warped relationship with his domineering mother. Murphy focuses on this bond as the source of Gein’s unraveling, illustrating how guilt and repression twisted into something far darker. At one point, doctors speculate that Gein’s descent into madness could have been triggered by almost anything, suggesting how fragile his grip on reality had become. Charlie Hunnam (Sons of Anarchy) disappears into the role of Gein, his soft-spoken delivery and awkward physicality create a portrait that is both haunting and disturbingly human.  Hunnam’s performance commands attention while not glorifying Gein or his actions. Joining Hunnam is Laurie Metcalf (Lady Bird, Scream 2), whose performance as Gein’s mother is equally chilling, capturing the dysfunction and emotional control that defined their relationship. Together they form the toxic heart of the series, a dynamic as mesmerizing as it is unsettling.

Visually, Monster captures the bleak, cold isolation of rural Wisconsin with unsettling accuracy. The landscape mirrors Gein’s ordinary exterior, making the horror that much more disturbing when it finally surfaces. Murphy’s attention to period detail from the vintage cars to the weathered clothing and architecture places the audience firmly in the 1950’s. In a bit of a gamble, Murphy also blends moments of surrealism and imagined realities. This gives viewers a glimpse into Gein’s fractured mind. These sequences are ambitious but at times blur lines between psychological exploration and overindulgence. 

Murphy also explores the cultural legacy of Ed Gein and his lasting imprint on the horror genre. The series nods to filmmakers who turned Gein’s crimes into myth, referencing Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho and Tobe Hooper’s Texas Chainsaw Massacre. These moments serve as a fascinating reminder of how one man’s horrific actions shaped decades of storytelling, but they also risk pulling the audience out of the main narrative. The series occasionally becomes too focused on Gein’s influence rather than the man himself, blurring the line between cultural commentary and character study. 

Gein’s story has always been difficult to portray on screen. Partially because of the brutality of his crimes, but also because of the uncertainty surrounding his motives and lack of clear historical records. Murphy takes creative liberties here, framing Monster as less of a biography and more of an exploration of the fascination that surrounds Gein’s crimes. While the approach allows for moments of insight, it also leads to narrative confusion as the show struggles to decide whether it wants to analyze the man or the myth.

Target Score: 5/10: Hunnam’s commanding performance anchors the series, but even he cannot save it from a wandering plot and a muddled sense of purpose. Monster is ambitious in scope but uneven in execution.